


Bet on their cliches

by inspectorwired



Series: logic and light years [2]
Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Humor, M/M, POV Outsider, Prom, Saimota Week 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:02:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24285532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inspectorwired/pseuds/inspectorwired
Summary: "Five bucks says they're kissing right now," Amami says with an easy laugh, using that tone of his that makes it impossible to know if he's serious. The question of whether he was joking or not, though, becomes entirely unimportant after a few moments, when Kiibo reaches into his pocket and calmly passes him a bill."I don't think they are," he says. "It's too cold and wet."
Relationships: Momota Kaito/Saihara Shuichi
Series: logic and light years [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1750891
Comments: 1
Kudos: 61





	Bet on their cliches

**Author's Note:**

> more of the latter, the former only seen in bouquets and wrist roses mentioned here and there, but! day 2 and both prompts: flowers/ thunder

"Doesn't seem to be stopping."

"Crap."

"At least it's not coming down that heavily."

"No, don't say that! That'll make it rain harder."

"It'll stop soon enough," Akamatsu reassures everyone, leaning back on the staircase. "And it doesn't matter to us right now anyway, does it?"

The rain is steadily falling outside their cover, but it's pretty faint now, and they're tired, but no one wants to go home yet.

The concrete is cold and slightly wet, but they're safe from the rain, sitting between scattered flower petals and empty beer cans. Akamatsu looks at the bunch of her freshly-former classmates, ones that stayed past the end of it, and she thinks about the night that passed, drinks and glitter on her face and in her hair and dancing until her feet hurt.

"Guess not."

"Akamatsu-chan must love being wet!"

"I'm a little cold," says Kiibo, his hair drooping, jacket coat that he came wearing apparently missing in action.

Harukawa looks at him, posture calm, heels on her feet like she doesn't even feel them. "I'm not," she says bluntly.

"I'm _always_ hot," Iruma boasts.

It's a bit chilly, but Akamatsu is far from uncomfortable, an internal furnace keeping her warm. Some of the others aren't of that luck - she looks to where Saihara is sitting, shivering despite being covered by both Momota's jacket and his arm.

"You good?"

"More or less," he says, teeth very nearly chattering.

"Come on, bro, suck it up," Momota tells him encouragingly. Akamatsu isn't sure how that can be of any help, but Saihara seems content enough.

" _I'm_ freezing my balls off!" Ouma declares happily.

"Sure you are."

"So, we staying here?"

"I guess? Until the sky clears up."

"I could go for more alcohol," Amami says noncommittally, playing with a flower on his lapel.

"Honestly, same."

Absentmindedly, Akamatsu touches hers.

Saihara gave her a flower, a small, pink rose for her wrist that goes well with her now ruined, mud-stained dress. He gave her his first dance too; let her lead once and gravitated to Momota first thing after the song ended. She watched the two of them move together without any skill or finesse, eyes only on each other.

Akamatsu laughs every time people assume that she and Saihara are dating. We're not each other's type, she always tells them, in a way that people with a secret talk about revealing it only to those who already know it's there.

"Wish we brought some music," Akamatsu comments idly.

Kiibo perks up at this. "I can sing!"

"Don't you fucking sing, man, we all heard what your singing sounds like," Momota says, rubbing Saihara's arms to get him warm.

The rain still hasn't stopped, faint but there, coming and going intermittently. Thunder sounds itself from time to time, a distant, rumbling noise.

"What're we doin' then?"

"Amami-chan wanted alcohol," Ouma adds, because he apparently can't quit being what Shirogane sometimes calls the Devil's Advocate and what Momota sometimes calls a fucking asshole. "Does anyone volunteer?"

There's a moment of silence as they look at the situation. Akamatsu's shoes are already beyond repair, she's pretty sure, but she's not big on the idea of walking some more in this weather.

"You can't be serious."

"Can I?"

"Come on, though, rain's practically stopped."

"Dibs on me an' Kiibo not going!" Iruma says. She's sitting next to the boy with an arm around his neck, one leg thrown over his lap, and it doesn't look like either of them would want to move, alcohol or no.

"We could go," Momota says immediately. "What do you say, Shuichi?"

Saihara lifts his head. "Hm?"

"We could buy some, c'mon. It'll warm you up."

"...I guess we could."

Akamatsu wonders if there's something else happening there. She has no way of telling for sure.

Saihara gets up very quickly after that, rising to slightly shaky feet, and Momota follows closely behind. He doesn't let go of him for a second, arm slumped over his shoulders as they walk.

"They're not coming yet."

"I think it's been quite enough time."

Iruma flicks a cigarette into a growing puddle and crosses her legs.

"Fuck this shit. Virgin boys got themselves lost in the flood, and my throat is drier than Akamatsu's pussy-"

She pauses, distracted by the way the light spatter of raindrops suddenly turns into a downpour; the thrumming of water against every uncovered surface so loud that it drowns out every other sound of nature.

"Oh, crap."

"Oh no."

"Fuck."

Akamatsu wants to reprimand her friends for swearing, but honestly, this time she can relate to the sentiment.

"We _are_ kinda fucked, haha. And those two."

"Right? Big mister Fucky-chan and lots of smaller fucklings. Best prom ever."

"The prom is over, though."

"Best post-prom party aftermath ever."

Akamatsu watches the rain pour down heavily, a thick curtain of marble-sized raindrops, splattering when they hit. There's no trace of their friends yet, and it's making her worry.

"I spy with my little eye… something brown."

"Tree trunk?"

"Piece of shit on the road."

"That’s probably just you, Iruma-chan!"

"Hnn-"

"A leaf?

"Harukawa's hair."

"Do you want to die?"

"Why are they not here yet. Did the rain drown them?"

"I don't think that's possible."

"Still…"

"Amami-kun's shoes are brown."

"I wanna play spin the bottle."

"Not making out with any of you."

They're still not showing.

"Five bucks says they're kissing right now," Amami says with an easy laugh, using that tone of his that makes it impossible to know if he's serious.

The question of whether he was joking or not, though, becomes entirely unimportant after a few moments, when Kiibo reaches into his pocket and calmly passes him a bill.

"I don't think they are,” he says. “It's too cold and wet."

"Fuck yeah, champion!" Next to him, Iruma whoops.

Amami blinks twice, then, after a moment of considering it, shrugs and puts down a bill of his own. "Why not," he says, amused. "Iruma-san?"

"I'm not betting against you, gay boy."

"Afraid you'll lose?"

" _I_ think they're fucking," Ouma says and slaps a crumpled bill onto the pile. Iruma squints at him.

"Alright, you know what? Fuck this, I'm in. Make that a double!" She digs some money out of her purse, adds it to the pile, and spits on top, which makes Akamatsu give her a horrified look.

“Aw, man,” Ouma seems defeated now, looking downward like a child who just got told it’s curfew. “I kinda don’t wanna win anymore. I'd just get this bitchlet's germs all over my pocket.”

"B-bitchlet-”

"How will you know," a new voice joins the commotion, one that's been silent for most of the conversation so far.

"Excuse me?"

"How will you know?" Harukawa repeats. “I’m not checking, by the way. That’s disgusting."

Akamatsu won't say anything, though she suspects that there's an issue there other than it being disgusting.

“Dunno, guess we’ll just figure it out. Smell it on them.”

“What are you, an animal?”

“What about the rest of you? Akamatsu-san, Harukawa-san. Nothing?”

Harukawa turns her head to look at them. "He likes him," she just says. "I'm not giving you my money."

"Which one of them do you mean?"

"Whichever you think is less obvious."

"That's fair," Amami laughs.

Akamatsu shakes her head at them all. This is childish and silly, as well as unfair to their friends’ privacy. She should call them out in it, but somehow, she finds it too fun to mind.

What the hell, she thinks and says, "I'm in. They're definitely getting together if they're taking this long.”

It could be the alcohol, or the night, or the occasion. It might be that she’s like this, giddy and expectant, and, Akamatsu thinks, maybe they are, too.

"Hell yeah, piano bitch has guts!"

"Please stop that."

"Hiii-"

"So, what have we got so far?" Amami seems to have fully accepted the role and responsibility of a treasurer by this point. "Five from Kiibo-kun, ten and a pair of panties from Iruma-san, as well as the offer of a 'tussle' - not taking you up on that one, by the way - words of encouragement from Harukawa-san, a fake 50 Euro bill, five Uno cards and a paperclip from Ouma-kun…"

"You guys think they're giving each other a little sucky wucky?"

"Don't be inappropriate," Kiibo scolds, as if his girlfriend doesn't talk like a stripper on meth every other time she opens her mouth.

"Come on, look around, it's pissing cats and dicks. They'd have to have some weird ass kinks to do it outside, even if they want a little privacy, if you know what I-"

"Shut up." Harukawa's eyes are dark, fingers tangled in her lap in a grip so hard that her skin is almost white. "Stop talking about it like that."

"Y-yes, ma'am!"

"No, but," Ouma says, dropping a wet leaf onto the pile as a way of raising the stakes, "What else could they be doing if not having a quickie? Harumaki-chan is so naive…"

"Call me that one more time and you'll pay with your blood."

Akamatsu bites the inside of her cheek, trying not to laugh. It probably wouldn’t be a good idea, especially since Harukawa seems moments away from actually up and punching Ouma. She thinks about how the two of them probably feel very similar about the situation.

Iruma sighs loudly. "Honestly? I don’t care anymore. I just want my beer."

"Can't help it when they're-"

"Hey guys, sorry for the wait!" Suddenly, Momota's voice sounds across the park, footsteps getting louder. Turning towards it, they notice the two of their friends walking towards them, both completely soaked.

One pair of approaching footsteps sounds a bit wet; Momota seems to have, for whatever reason, taken his shoes off, his socks making a splotching noise with every step he makes. Akamatsu cringes. Saihara's flushed to the tips of his ears, hair sticking to his face, and he doesn't look cold anymore at all. He has what looks like Momota's shoes in his free hand, while Momota is carrying a huge plastic bag full of beer cans.

In the middle, they're holding hands.

Akamatsu can practically taste the expectant pause that settles for a few moments, before everyone goes off practically at once.

"Oh, they _are_!"

"Can't believe I'm agreeing with you."

"Haha!"

"I would deduce that something happened."

"Guess you lost, then!"

"Wait, who lost again?'

Some of them didn't even decide on what they were betting on, Akamatsu suddenly realizes, thinking back. Tipsy logic.

Not showing any signs of having noticed that they're being closely observed, Saihara and Momota sit down to join the rest of them, dropping the bag between them so that everyone can reach. They're still touching, casually, Momota's one hand in Saihara's lap. Momota is still in his socks, which Akamatsu personally counts as a crime against humanity.

"...So, I gotta ask," Amami finally says, opening a beer can, keeping his tone strictly business-like despite not even hiding the way his lips curl upwards, "Since we've got a situation going on." He vaguely gestures to the pile of money and junkyard material right next to where Momota placed the bag.

"What?"

"Soy boy here's tryna ask if you guys were making out on your way back."

The claim is met with an instant reaction. Saihara lets go of Momota in an instant, like he suddenly morphed into a too-hot stove, his own face also resembling one. At the same time, Momota raises his free hand to comb it through his hair, making it stick out in all directions even more after what the gel combined with the rain did.

"I mean, yeah- Are you alright with telling 'em, Shuichi?"

The latter part of the sentence is an attempt at a murmur, but, with Momota's lack of indoor voice, everyone can hear it very clearly.

"Knew it!"

"Ha! Gay."

"Literally none of us here are straight."

"Why do it in the middle of a goddamn flood, you fuckin' normies?"

"I'm happy for you," Akamatsu manages to say while keeping a straight face, corners of her mouth stubbornly twitching upwards.

Harukawa doesn't seem to be having trouble with staying serious, herself. "Congrats," she says flatly.

"Aw, thanks, Harumaki!"

"Don't get near me. You're wet."

"Sure thing!" Momota says after slapping her on the back. "Hey, does anyone want a hug?"

"Don't you dare!"

Akamatsu gets up and tries to evade him, but can't stop laughing at this point, watching her friends yelp and scramble as Momota chases them in a mock-attempt to get them wet.

"Hah, weak! Shuichi's the only one who's brave enough to let me."

He sits back next to Saihara and puts his arm back around him with a wet _slap_. They stay there, glued to each other, and Akamatsu doesn't know what happened there, exactly, but-

She thinks about Saihara's eyes whenever he looks at him, almost helpless with adoration; about all the ways Momota acts differently with him than with anyone else, louder, more protective. Thinks back to all the ‘Just tell him, geez’ that she uttered over coffee, without much hope that her friend will listen.

For so long, they both seemed on the cusp of trying something, like even a light breeze would be enough to give them a push. Luckily, tonight gave them a thunderstorm.

Akamatsu cracks open her beer.

**Author's Note:**

> cliches in the title referring to first kisses in the rain, prom as the occasion to get together, and every other overused romance trope that this might contain. this fic was first supposed to be written from saiharas pov, and im guessing hed muse some about the fact; he likes stories after all, and would know and notice these things.  
> instead, monkey brain went 'but what if you just-' and being a slut for outsider povs of course i went with it.
> 
> i also decided to go with some of my own experiences writing this, and seeing as im not japanese (or american) im inviting yall to turn a blind eye to any cultural inconsistencies that this definitely has. its an au, and all for fun after all
> 
> thanks for reading, hope u liked


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